


Skaiamall: War of the Magi

by dagas isa (dagas_isa)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Humor, Ridiculous, Romance, gift-giving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dagas_isa/pseuds/dagas%20isa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose discovers Skaiamall in the internet beyond the furthest ring and introduces Kanaya to an important Lalonde tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skaiamall: War of the Magi

You in your traffic-cone-orange hoodie and your girlfriend romantically bioluminescent in the way of a deep sea anglerfish sit together in an isolated corner of an asteroid zooming off into space at the rate of approximately one light second per second. The rest of your traveling companions are occupied elsewhere, perhaps ensconced in a rousing hash rap battle or pretending to engage in the famed human/troll sloppy makeouts but really just making Karkat hold his breath until he's red in the face.

You have your hubtop and she her lunchtop. Together, you voyage onto the sites that live on the server that lies beyond the furthest ring, meticulously maintained by Lyth'aacker, Horrorterror and eldritch webmistress.

Your walkthrough remains hosted here, embarrassingly accessible to anyone across the universes who would care to venture this far through the internet. No cease and desist letter has yet to remove it. But then short of your mother—who in her current state is a vengeance motivator and future guest-of-honor at a corpse party more than a source of embarassing drunken commentary—you can't think of a worse person to read it than the troll sitting across from you. She, of course, has memorized the entire grim omnibus and, when she feels particularly irksome, will occasionally quote back entire paragraphs at you.

But that walkthrough is old news and irrelevant to the type of nightmarish web-browsing adventure a veteran seeks beyond the furthest ring. You quickly grew bored of searching out lascivious videos of hearts undulating. The monochromatic ladies were scintillating and yet somehow rather dull, and neither you nor Kanaya could shake off the feeling that you were looking at something not meant for your eyes. And you don't even want to think about the stuff with the Scottish Terriers.

They were all distractions anyway. There were bigger online abominations to discover, and in one moment in the undefinable darkness that punctuates the passage of time on an asteroid hurtling through empty space, you find it in a friendly blue and white logo.

Skaiamall.

To the untrained eye, any order you place here may be an innocent gag gift of mild uselessness, but in the grand tradition of the Lalonde family, it would be a declaration of war most solemn. You don’t have to do this, you tell yourself as your pointer hovers over the Our Products button. You could send your grim auxilatrix a link to this most fiendish of websites and snark together in the warm and comfortable way of matesprits. You could. You should. Logically, you know this is best. But the years of conditioning and drive that created the best wizard in the inciphisphere are not ignored so easily.

Or, to put it simply, you fail to resist the urge.

A mouse is clicked.

==>

You start with an easy lob. One-upmanship is a two player game, and until Kanaya reveals her potential, you want to save your best moves for later. You browse Skaiamall, rejecting some products and putting others aside for later in your prolonged battle of seductive passive-aggression. You aim for cheap, personal, and just devastatingly apt enough that she has no option but retaliation.

You make your opening gambit with little expense—four measly boondollars plus another five for shipping—and wait.

==>

A few indistinct intervals of time later, Kanaya's gift arrives. You place the package of glow-in-the-dark green sun decals underneath her sewing machine.

You know she discovers them when you gather together for one of your dates in the cyberspace beyond the furthest ring, and in the precise middle of the lunchtop one of the stickers glows cheerily at you. She thanks you politely—who else would be behind such a devious bout of generosity?—and leaves it at that. Or so she would have you think. If you know this troll's M.O. as well as you think you do, she's consulted with both your ectobiological sibling and Troll Doctor Ruth to determine the meaning of this gesture and its implication for her quadrants.

You play out the scenario in your mind’s eye. Kanaya will listen to their counsel, deconstruct it with laser precision, and tumble it all about in her head, until she reaches the only possible conclusion. She must respond.

You quiver in anticipation.

==>

A few days later, and you fail to fail to notice a rectangular screen sitting next to your hubtop. You examine this new screen thingie. It's an electronic picture frame, not unlike one that might have been found in the home of an almost technologically-savvy grandmother if earth still existed. You turn it on. If your instinct is correct, this is the response you've been waiting for.

As suspected, Kanaya has personalized her gift. The set of images cycles before you, one after another: the screenshots from your unforgettably violet SBURB walkthrough, your overwrought captions still legible at the bottom.

Well-played, Maryam, well-played.

==>

From here, each step must be carefully considered. The elaborate battlefield protocol of The War of Indulgence has been drilled into your head, you are compelled to obey for fear of accidental surrender. In order to secure the advantage going into the next round, your response must be twofold.

First, you must deal with the gift you received. To hide the gift is a sign of disrespect at best and, at worst, serves as an admission that you have no clue how to deal with such a gift. Kanaya shows promise, but she lacks your years of training in the ironic indulgence department, and you must, gently, show her how a true virtuoso performs. You proudly display the picture frame, albeit loaded with jade-green troll grub pictures you found on the public FTP file server of a Virgin Mother Grub. The endearingly embarrassing moments of trollgrub-lusus bonding are there for all to see, shuffled between your masterfully interpreted screenshots. It's almost…mesmerizing.

Second, you must consider the next gift to give Kanaya. Tempting as the Rainbow-Drinker Sample Pack is (1 tiny bottle each of 11 different shades of troll blood—a complete set excluding Mutant Candy Red and Tyrian Purple), it ignores the immediate situation. You put that thought aside for later, perhaps even to be weaponized in a new battle, or further on in this one, if the shiny troll vampire issue re-emerges. No, you must respond to Kanaya's unhealthy obsession with your walkthrough.

You do. You strike swift and furious, and with a slash of your trademark magenta ink, you make the decisive blow in the SBURB Skirmish. And it only cost 17 Boondollars and 95 Booncents plus shipping.

==>

When you find the autographed and personalized first print hardcover edition of your SBURB walkthrough next to the picture frame, with each and every piece of your verbal overgrowth meticulously noted in jade-green ink, complete with recommended corrections, you feel the tightening of romantic pride in your chest. She is worthy of you.

Clearly, she has quickly picked up on the rules of engagement. You will not get an easy admission of defeat from her.

And oh, it makes you want to try so much harder. No one bests Rose Lalonde in a game of ironic indulgence. No one.

==>

Your opponent's next move takes some time coming, but the waiting makes the eventual reveal so much sweeter.

When you see the 12-inch Jaspers action figure and the Junior Therapist's Feline Psychoanalysis kit, you aren't let down. It feels almost like the snowy morning of an amazing alchemeter spree. It's perfect in every detail (or as perfect as a mass-produced and marketed Jaspers figurine could be), and the romantic pride you feel right now is so overwhelming, you think your sincerity meter is about to tick to a record high of just barely above zero.

No. You must keep your head, Lalonde. Think. Yes, you need to respond to Kanaya's overtures. No, human/troll sloppy makeouts are not a proper response.

Think.

First, you must address the corrections made to your walkthrough in jade-green ink. In an ideal world, you would compile the revised edition of the FAQ, errors lovingly corrected, and reprint it. Then you would place a solid gold bookplate engraved with a sloppy dedication to Kanaya Maryam, your biggest fan and number one meddler—you mean editor—on the inside front cover, but time is of the essence and you don't feel like running this whole walkthrough horseshit into the ground.

Instead you order a plaster bookstand and display the book between both of your computers with an engraved placronym honoring the walkthrough's place in your rom-com ready love story. Seriously. You can practically see John and Karkat hanging the poster on their walls.

You want to see her top that.

Content that the walkthrough is well-taken care of, and that any further attempts of indulgence on the book itself will result in your opponent's loss, you turn your attention to the latest development: the Jaspers figurine and Junior Therapist's Feline Psychoanalysis playset.

Again, putting it away would be a major breach in protocol. No, it must be displayed with the care such an overture deserves. You repaint the likeness of your dear, departed Jaspers with glow in the dark paint. He becomes a feline rainbow drinker. For added charm, you add a purple obi around his waist and paint a teeny-tiny jade Virgo glyph on the lapel of his suit. Rainbow drinker Kanaspers takes her place on the cardboard couch that comes with the Junior Therapist's kit, and is place neatly under the pedestal bearing your walkthrough.

As an added touch, you use the notebook included with the kit to write down an analysis of why Kanaya feels the compulsion to auspice with everyone.

That addressed, you are now free to fire the next round.

==>

You spend a few days at the Skaiamall website, taking stock of the potentialities dormant inside each of the improbable products, and creating a map—sans your wizard powers—to victory. How would Kanaya respond to this? What would you do if she gave you that?

While you ponder, you feel her nail as she taps you upon the shoulder. She looks concerned. Phosphorescent too, but mostly concerned.

Is There Any Way I Can Talk You Out Of Carrying On This Imagined Contest With Me? She asks you, and then clarifies. I Do Not See It Ending Well.

You dismiss the very thought. Victory will be yours. You say this very emphatically.

She seems to understand.

==>

Once the distraction is taken care of, you prepare your next move:

The Jaspers figurine was obviously a call back both to the baby grub pictures you loaded on the electronic picture frames and an influential childhood hobby of yours. You suppose she has the advantage of having seen you across every point in your timeline, and although the cessation of your universe of origin has made a live feed impossible, if Kanaya doesn't have enough carefully annotated records to write the enhanced biography of the Grimdark Seer of Light, then you may just eat your ball of wizardbeard yarn.

You might just eat it anyway. It has to be better than rations of gravy and Faygo. It just sits there…gleaming appealingly.

Focus, Lalonde.

You put the thought of delicious wizardbeard yarn aside and continue to browse Skaiamall. Your next step is extravagant, but you think the 99 Boondollars worth it, especially since the bonus gift adds an extra volley to your attack. With free appearification, it's really closer to 79 Boondollars anyway.

Really, it's just an additional lesson from the Grand Wizard of Vengeful Gifting.

Not that you would ever call yourself that where anyone could hear you.

==>

You know your gift—a set of two fake bonsai cloud-topiaries and bonus jumbo-lipstick/pocket chainsaw—hits the mark when Kanaya disappears for a few days. She's learned the procedure well, and her initial response is sure and swift. A purple velvet pillow has been gently placed under the leather cover of the personalized first-print-edition walkthrough. You make a note to either buy or knit a doily to go between cushion and cover.

The growing shrine to your passive-aggressive war of generosity continues to grow. The Kanaspers doll is now sitting in the therapist's chair, and in its former place on the couch is an Alternian Grub doll dressed like the troll version of Rose Lalonde, complete with miniature knitting needles. The junior therapist's notepad is now written on in jade-green ink, and the contents speculate as to the lusus issues harbored by one Troll Rose Lalonde.

Stupid meddling rainbow drinkers who can see every second of your personal timeline.

You waste no time placing needle to yarn and knitting that retaliatory doily.

You place it with a certain grim satisfaction. There. Knitted thing under book.

No matter how warm the fleeting glow of victory, you cannot rest until it's secured. Your adversary has been busy too, and the topiaries now have appeared in the growing shrine to the flushed quadrant. When you take a closer look at faux-foliage, you realize that she has put the novelty pocket chainsaw to use and shaped them into leafy wizard hats.

Dammit! You knew you shouldn't have used the silken wizard beard yarn to make that doily. You just exposed your weakness to her.

You almost fear her next move. Is it going to be the solid Maplehoof rocking horse, or perhaps the limited edition Zazzerpan the Learned action-figure? Certainly she wouldn't go so far as the vodka-and-olive perfumed scarf. No. She must realize the implosion and subsequent breakdown of the relationship inherent in that gesture, just as you understand those same dynamics hidden in giving Kanaya the deluxe plush matriorb.

Still, you are almost tempted to cheat and use your powers to determine your opponent's next move.

==>

You’re vaguely let down to see the Seer of Light's Godtier five-in-one convertible dress folded neatly at your station. You have no doubt to its expense, being made of all-natural fibers and hand-stitched by the master seamstress of Prospit before she burned in the inciphisphere (at least according to the product description on the website) but countering this move is as easy as altering the hemline a few inches and wearing the result one kinda-sorta-night while you both surf the furthest ring. In fact, she's given you the secret weapon for final victory—a way to provoke her direct response to your gesture.

You store it for now. You'll provoke your final response when all other matters are settled, and make no mistake, there are other matters to settle.

You switch out the junior therapist's notebook with the commemorative Trollight journal, wherein you write, in jade green ink, overwrought self-insert fanfiction between the troll-rainbow drinker and the headbanded heroine. You place that in Kanasper's hands and burn the previous speculation as to your lusus issues.

Your discerning eye measures up the scene. There's not much you can do about the pair of wizard hat topiaries, not unless you cared to spray paint them silver and attach them to a disco ball in order to create a giant replica of Kanaya, but that would be ludicrous, and you'd have no way to suspend a giant disc ball/topiary statue above your computers anyway. Unless…

Stop that, Lalonde.

You put the disco ball idea aside for a later point on the timeline, perhaps the one where you have built your shared hive-house hybrid on a new planet and have things like beams and actual ceilings upon which to suspend heavy objects. The effort put into the customized topiaries does deserve commemoration somehow. You send them off the Skaiamall to have them electroplated in glow-in-the-dark nickel silver, and then have a miniature wardrobizer attached to each one, so that the fashion-obsessed can accessorize them at her will.

You place the order for a giant green sunlight lamp instead, complete with the globe shaped like the sun-glyph on the front of your Fancy Tangerine Pajamas +1 (would Terezi stop with the trying to lick them?), and with that you're caught up with the retaliation. Well, almost.

You still need to alter the dress Kanaya gave you. And then you can claim victory.

==>

You retreat into the privacy of your wizard lair the entire day. You're a knitter, not a seamstress, and determining the right amount to take off—enough to entice, but not too much to be unwearable—is harder than you might expect. But you prevail, and with aplomb and your normal Godtier outfit to disguise your brilliant endgame move, you practically swagger into your shared meteoric love-corner.

Kanaya is there already, and you take a discreet glance at the battlefield to check for any new additions. Even with your enhanced vision, you see none. But that does not mean that the site remains the same as it was when you left. Your opponent has been rearranging the objects, herding them border collie-like into a smaller area of space, possibly in preparation for her next move. What could she be up to?

You call upon your vision, but all you see is darkness closing in around you. Now obviously, if one's power is to see all fortune, and the path to victory, then the sight of nothing naturally leads you to the conclusion….

You're heading to a swift defeat.

Or so you would think, if not for the fact that you have the sweetest road to success ahead of you. In fact, the darkness is probably like your sight's Victory GPS telling you that you're already at the front stoop so why bother to consult the oracle anyway? All you need to do is keep calm and focus.

You sit on the floor with your hubtop and nod to her.

She returns the nod. She returns to her work. The pillows come out. They're just ordinary pillows, not from Skaiamall or anything. At least you don't recognize them from any of the thousands of product descriptions you’ve sifted through.

Casually, you remove the hoodie, revealing the five-in-one Seer of Light Godtier Garment, now adjusted to show flashes of leg.

Her eyes widen, and you savor the rush of victory as her eyes draw downward over your body. You've caught her off guard with this response.

Then her black lips curl up into a smile, and the lights gleam on her fangs.

Clever Idea, she tells you as she approaches your position. It Would Have Worked Too Except For One Thing.

Oh, what's that? You ask.

She beckons you to come closer, and as you approach her, she crouches down and brandishes her sewing kit. Your Hem Is Crooked, she says.

While she cuts the thread and straightens the line of your dress, you facepalm. For all your careful planning, of course you would make a stupid mistake in the endgame. You should have taken the time and sent it to the Grim Tailor of Derse to get it altered. Too late for that now, you guess. And unless she's careless and makes another mistake with the hemming, what can you even do to retaliate?

No, you can't think like that. There's always something you can do. Always.

There we go, she says, cutting off the final stray ends and smoothing your skirt. Good as new. She thanks you for the lamp, which you realize is the only gift to remain apart from the others, now that you notice both the early picture frame gift and the original glow-in-the-dark green sun decals peeking out from the—

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh hell no.

You double facepalm.

All the gifts, the diorama to your relationship, have now coagulated into a pile-type formation, at least as far as the welling-up feelings inside you are concerned. And you realize too, that Kanaya's penultimate move—her beckoning you closer to repair your hemline—was all a gambit to draw you into the pile's radius of influence.

Well-played, Maryam. Well-played, indeed. Her natural talent for the game impresses you, and while you will have to plot your comeback—you cannot let your reputation suffer permanent damage—you graciously allow her to guide you into the pile for the post-game sharing of strategy and mutual emotions, followed by the labial shows of affection considered less-than-tidy in some corners of this flying rock.

Which isn’t as poor an ending as you feared.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was for a prompt given to me IRL... Rose/Kanaya, shopping.
> 
> ...
> 
> Yeah. Leaving that there.


End file.
